Page 49 of The Heart We Guard
Picnics? Meh. Flies buzzing around your food and risk of sunburn.
I get the whole fresh air thing, but you can achieve the same by opening a screened window and sitting in the air flow.
The only remotely outdoors thing I do is ski. But I put my hand on my stomach. “Guess we’re not skiing this year,” I say to Pooks.
The gate opens, and the other man waves me through. I slow as I pass him.
“Just pull up outside the clubhouse. He’s gonna step out to see you.”
“Thanks.”
I head up the dirt trail to the clubhouse, pondering Butcher’s response. Nothing saysI don’t want you herelike not even letting you inside.
I glance at the envelope on the seat next to me. The letter I already wrote on the off chance that I didn’t get to see Butcher face-to-face.
There is only one question I need the answer to, and once I have it, I can leave.
A glance in the rearview mirror tells me I look fine. I’ve braided my hair tight and worn a baseball cap. The car is a rentalI hired for the trip. Tonight, I’m headed for a hotel at the airport for the next couple of nights before my flight.
A door to the clubhouse opens, and Butcher’s impressive frame fills the doorway as he steps outside. The light from behind him means I only see Butcher in relief. But when the door closes, I can see him a little better.
And my traitorous heart skips a beat at the sight.
I wish I weren’t as attracted to him as I am.
I wish he hadn’t marked me in a way I’m finding hard to escape.
I wish this weren’t the start and end of the three of us being in the same place at the same time.
“Greer,” he says, his voice rough. “You shouldn’t have come here.”
I glance around, to see if anyone else can hear us. “Is there somewhere we can talk? Privately?”
Butcher gesticulates around us to the rows of empty trucks and bikes. “Here is as good as any. It’s packed inside. You doing okay?”
It’s an awkward question that deserves an awkward answer. “Since the day you woke up, crawled out of my bed, and just left?”
He points to the clubhouse. “You clearly knew where I was.”
“I don’t chase men across the state, as a general rule.”
The way he looks at me is confusing. It’s as though he remembers the heat and beauty of every single thing we were and did, and yet he doesn’t want me here. “Then, why are you here?”
“The men you were fighting. Is it over?” I need to know. I need to be certain because I’m leaving the Midtown Rebels behind but would hate for the men he was shot fighting to pick up my trail. Fleeing is cowardly, but at least I know who and how the Rebels are. But I don’t know who Butcher’s enemy is, and Idon’t want to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder to see if some mysterious enemy has me in their sights.
He nods. “For now. Will take a lot to come back from what we did. But this is my life. Not sure it will ever really be over. Why?”
That’s justification enough for what I’m about to do. When I say I’ve got Pooks’s back, I mean it. I mean, I know Pooks doesn’t even have a proper back yet, but I can pretend.
“Is there any way they could possibly know about me?”
Butcher shakes his head. “Not unless you were followed tonight.”
“The car’s a rental, and I made sure I wasn’t.” I don’t tell him I’ve been staying at various hotels since the night I decided to leave for Vegas. “Hence the hat and clothes.” I wore the most inconspicuous things I could think of. All black. “So, they can’t possibly know about us?”
I’m repeating the question, I know. But I need to be certain. For a moment, he lifts his hand as if he’s going to touch my cheek, then seems to realize what he’s about to do and drops it.
“No. And you should go to make sure it stays that way. I’ll always be grateful for your help, and I’m sorry for leaving without a word, but it’s better that people don’t know there’s a link between us.”
